


Lullaby

by Ellie5192



Series: A Little Light Music [20]
Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, family fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie5192/pseuds/Ellie5192
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sharon, the boy’s growing up. And it’s probably scaring the absolute crap outta him. Give him time. He still loves you. That, and he’ll have to come out eventually, because he’ll get hungry”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> And, as ever and always, to those still with me, thank you, and to those who review, bless you. I hope you all enjoy.

**Lullaby**

 

“Come on Rusty, open up” she calls gently, rapping again on the door.

She sighs, and lays her forehead against the door frame, her eyes slipping closed in exhausted frustration. She knows the door is not actually locked, but she’s always respected Rusty’s need for privacy and she won’t open it unless he allows her to enter of his own free will. She hears Andy’s slow footfalls down the corridor, a soft look on his face as he watches her, his hands in his pockets as he takes easy steps. He stops right near her bedroom door, leaving the small distance between them as sign enough that he’s hoping to coax her back into the living room.

“He still won’t come out?” he asks. This has been going on for a good two hours, on and off, and he can see she’s really reaching the end of her tether.

She abandons her post at the bedroom door and walks towards him, and he opens his arms just as she practically crashes into them, groaning in frustration against his chest. After a moment her arms come around his waist, and he just rubs comforting circles on her back, trying not to let her feel his smirk. He walks them both down the hall and over to the couch, and pulls her down into the cushions with him, his arm around her shoulder as he tucks her into his side.

“He won’t talk to me at all” she whines.

“He had a big day. His first meeting with Emma, going it alone, standing up to her questioning. Give him time to find his feet again”

For a moment Andy remembers the aftermath of his first AA testimonial, and how he’d just wanted to crawl right back into that bottle after spilling his guts to strangers. He’s been there; he knows what it feels like to hate yourself and want to change yourself, but being unyieldingly trapped by the past.

“I’d like to help him find his feet- that’s the point” she grumbles, curling around onto her hip so she can lay her head on his shoulder and her arm around his middle. Already she can feel it starting to slim a little with his new diet, though it’s only been a couple of weeks. Water-weight mostly, she thinks, but is relieved all the same.

“Sharon, the boy’s growing up. And it’s probably scaring the absolute crap outta him. Give him time. He still loves you. That, and he’ll have to come out eventually, because he’ll get hungry”

She grins into his chest, rolling her face to bury it in his shirt. He has an infuriating ability to make her laugh, and she loves him for it. Laughter was always something she demanded in a relationship; Jack had offered plenty, but unfortunately not much of anything else. Andy makes it all so damn easy.

She groans in the back of her nose, a completely undignified and frankly foreign sound from her, and huffs again. “I just don’t know what to do for him” she says, sounding small and lost.

“Present him with a big bowl of ice cream when he finally emerges, and ask what movie he wants to watch”

“That easy?” she asks.

“He was pretty brave today, going in there alone. I think he’s just gonna want some reassurance that you’ve got his back”

“Of course I have his back” she answers incredulously, sitting up to look him in the eye, an earnest look on her face that he finds adorable. “I always have, I always will”

“I know that” he hushes. His expression softens just slightly as he smiles at her and rubs her arm. “More importantly, he knows that. Just give him some time to remember it, okay?”

He leans in, lightly clasping her face between his hands, and kisses her sweetly. She returns it with a little smile, her hands resting against his sides. Their eyes slip closed as they part, and then they lightly kiss again. It’s soft and comforting, and exactly what she’s been missing all the years she’s been alone.

When they part again, her eyes stay closed just a fraction longer, and she opens them to find him staring at her with the greatest shit-eating grin on his face. She suddenly feels very special, and doesn’t quite know what to do with that except curl back into his side and tuck her hand firmly over his stomach. She swings her legs up onto the couch and curls them half underneath her bum; this is exactly what she needs.

She sighs, her breath brushing his jaw as she leans her head back against his shoulder and turns her nose towards his neck. He squeezes her shoulder just slightly, rocking her fractionally closer as he enjoys the feeling of being so necessary, and so wanted. He's never been one for stillness, or for just sitting and taking in a moment and allowing it to just be. Too long in his own head is never good for his mood; too many thoughts start to swirl; memories of past cases, of long-held regrets, times sitting in a bar that he can barely remember, his latest health concerns, his relationship with his daughter. When he is still, and silent, and can feel his own heartbeat for longer than a few moments, it gives those things a chance to come forward. He doesn't like being that way, and it's not because he wants to avoid facing his life. He needs to address things head-on and in front, both eyes forward and feet moving him to change; he needs to mentor at AA, and power-walk around the block, and maybe sometimes resist the urge to belt a suspect through a wall. Brooding and wallowing turns him into a person he doesn't like or want to be; a bad cop; a man Sharon doesn't need in her life.

But sitting with her, reclined against her couch and with her inhalations syncing with his own, he doesn't mind lingering as long as he can, letting the silence descend and a peace settle somewhere in his gut. The presence of someone so fundamental to him keeps his mind blissfully blank. 

He smiles when she sighs, a high-pitched and airy hum escaping her, and he turns his head and plants a kiss against her hair.  

"I'd almost forgotten how hard this single parenting thing was" she mumbles, loud enough for him to hear, but just barely above a whisper. "I'm glad I have you"

He scoffs and rubs his palm over her upper arm in support. "You're amazing. Never doubt it" 

He had suspected her husband was an absent parent, given everything else he's gleaned about the man, but his heart goes out to her at the thought that, far from doing his best to be there despite the separation, her husband left the bulk of the parenting to Sharon. He's never met him, and wouldn't want to wish him harm, but god would he like to left alone with him for just an hour. Perhaps his insecurities regarding his own kids fuel this fire, and really that doesn't surprise him, but all the business with Nicole's wedding makes Andy thankful he's kept up some kind of relationship, and now at least he can honestly say he tried. He listens to the sound of Sharon breathing against him- relaxed but not asleep- and can't imagine that anyone would want any different with her and her children.

He rocks her shoulder close one more time, though she can't know what he's thinking, and she opens her eyes just fractionally and curls a little further into his chest. Her hand comes up to rest lightly over his heart, her fingers patting him there a couple of times. His other hand comes up to hold it flat there, and he rests his cheek against her head.

"Just for the record, I'm glad I have you, too"

She smiles bashfully. She tilts her head up, looking at him as he squints down at her out of the corner of his eye. He smirks right back. 

They hear the click of a lock and the squeak of a door. Both heads turn to look down the hall, and they see Rusty slowly make his way out of his room. His head is bowed, his eyes focussed pointedly at the floor, and despite the shorter length, his hair covers half of his face. His hands are in his track pants pockets, and his shoulders are hunched as he walks softly from the hall around to the kitchen, deliberately ignoring them, though he obviously realises they are watching him. She hears him dishing up some dinner for himself; she had told him an hour ago through his door that there was food on the stove for him when he was ready.

When he rounds the corner again, posture much the same except for the plate in his hand, Sharon catches a glimpse of his face behind his hair, and she can see the red of his eyes and the blotchiness of his cheeks.

In an instant she is standing, her hand lingering for just a moment on Andy’s shoulder as she follows Rusty back towards his room. He doesn’t close the door behind him as he goes, and that’s invitation enough for her to follow him straight on in. Sometimes her own children insisted they didn’t want to talk, when really they did. Sometimes they tried to be brave all on their own and it worked; other times, they need someone to catch them. She thinks Rusty’s been brave enough for one day.

She walks in just as he’s setting the plate on his bedside table, his back to her and his head still bowed. She takes a step towards him, and then another. Suddenly, as though his puppet strings are cut, he falls forward onto his bed, his head burying into his pillow and his arms tucking in underneath it, his legs stretched out straight. In a single moment she closes the distance, taking one more step and sitting on the bed next to his hip. She sees his shoulders shake just once.

She places a hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades, and rubs small circles as she feels him silently shaking all over, heavy sobs refusing to be let go. She knows how he feels about crying in front of people, but she can see that right now he needs her support more than he needs the pretence of false dignity. She brings her other hand up to rest gently in his hair, not sure how else to help him. If it was her own son she would pull him into her arms whether he liked it or not, and force him to hug her back as she gave all the platitudes she could think of. Maybe even rock him, if it made him feel better. But Rusty is not her son, and is not quite so comfortable with physical contact in general, and so she stays there with one hand on his head and the other rubbing circles on his back, and she thinks that’s enough.

He is silent, even in his breathing, and so she hears Andy approach the door with light footfalls. She turns and gives him a look of sympathy. A whole night of knocking on the door and he finally let her in.  

Andy walks quietly into the room and around to the other side of the bed, making enough of a ruckus with the bed sheets to let Rusty know he’s there too. He sits on the boy’s other side, but doesn’t reach for him. He doesn’t touch him at all, but his weight dips the mattress enough to let him know he’s there. They want to support him, but crowding him will only make him shut down, and so he leaves it to Sharon.

Together they sit like that for a long while, silent and still, except for the hand on Rusty’s back that never ceases its caress, and the one in his hair that barely moves except to lightly rub his scalp. After a while Andy notices the boy’s breathing is deeper; the silent shaking of his shoulders has stopped and his arms are relaxed where before they were tense. He meets Sharon’s eye, and she softly smiles, nodding to indicate that yes, Rusty has in fact fallen asleep. Andy grins at her in response.

He stands first, careful not to jostle the bed, and makes his way to the door. Sharon runs her hand through Rusty’s hair a couple of times, smoothing it down from where her fingers had been, and then gently stands up herself. She smiles at Rusty for a single moment, his heavy breathing becoming audible in the silent room. Picking up the forgotten plate of food, she turns and walks to Andy at the door, and he pulls quietly closed behind her as she steps through. Together they make their way down the hall, and it’s not long before they’re both tucked up in bed, wrapped around each other in sleep despite the lingering warmth of the summer night. She had found out a short while after they got together that Andy likes to snuggle in his sleep, and he bear-hugs the closest thing he can find, doona or person. She doesn’t mind so much; it’s nice waking up in someone’s arms.

For a few long hours the house is quite; still in that way that only a sleeping house can be.

When Rusty pads out of his room in the middle of the night, his unbearably empty stomach waking him a few hours later, he is surprised to see a faint glow from the kitchen. Rounding the corner he sees the small stove light has been left on, and on the stove is a plate of food with clear plastic wrap over the top. With a confused grin he approaches the surprise package, and sees a sticky note on top of the plastic in a wonderfully familiar hand. He could almost cry again, but instead lets out a watery laugh.

_Just in case you get hungry. Buzz for two minutes. Mmmm._

And he knows he’ll be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> And from now on kids, we are flying in AU mode. After 2x05 I just don’t see how I can possibly keep this totally within the laws of established canon, mostly because the marriage of Sharon Raydor is so damn interesting all on its own and I kind of want to leave that as its own thing and this as a different thing. So from here on out consider this an AU, though I’ll work in major plot points as we go.


End file.
